Chapter 30
HAL
I’m sitting at the front next to Sarah and Vivian when I start to feel a bit sick. I think it might be nerves. Ridiculous, really, as I don’t even have much to do with the actual ceremony. All I have to do is sit and watch, as far as I’m aware.
Louis stands at the front, looking fidgety and nervous.
I long to straighten his collar at the back, adjust his tie.
But he’s got Greg there to do that. I’m surplus to requirements.
It’s weird. Sometimes, I’ll admit, when Louis was younger, I’d feel a bit tired when it came to my weekend with him.
I’d want to see him of course, but I’d also wonder if I had the energy for it.
I probably longed for the days when he’d become a man and I wouldn’t have to read him bedtime stories, or play football in the park when my back was giving me gyp.
Careful what you wish for – people are right when they say it all passes in a flash.
The registrar, an English-speaking lady whom Vivian knows from some sort of coffee morning she goes to, has arrived. She’s about my age, dressed in a navy suit. She says something to Louis and he nods.
Moments later, Louis catches my eye and gives a little grin, and I’m filled with a feeling I can’t explain. It’s happiness, I think, but there’s sorrow there too. And a relief that there’s still this bond between us even today.
There’s classical music playing from somewhere, but I can’t see the source. It’s gentle, relaxed and complements the summer day.
They couldn’t have picked a better one. It’s been thumping hot the last week, but today it’s a little cooler – still sunny, but comfortable. Nobody’s fiddling with their collar or taking off their jacket.
The music abruptly stops, then a soft love song begins to play. I think it might be something by Ed Sheeran – not always my first choice of artist, but this one’s actually pretty good. And one by one we all stand up, then turn to see Summer and her father making their way towards us.
Summer’s chosen a simple white dress with thin straps that falls to the ground in waves.
Her hair is gathered up, and someone’s taken the time to weave white flowers through it.
She’s clutching a bouquet of white and burgundy roses.
She’s beautiful. I steal a glance at Louis and see his eyes glisten with held-back tears.
And I feel proud that I’ve helped to raise a son who knows how to love.
I’ve been to a few weddings over the years, often in churches, and the speed of this ceremony surprises me. It seems to be over in an instant and I wonder whether it’s because it was genuinely shorter than some, or because I’ve been properly focused, listening to every word that’s spoken.
And then everyone’s clapping and whooping and Louis kisses Summer tenderly. I reach for Sarah’s hand and give it a squeeze and she looks at me, her eyes full.
‘That’s our boy,’ I say to her.
She nods, smiling.
Afterwards, I shake Louis’s hand, pulling him in for a hug, then hug Summer too.
She feels delicate in my arms, like I’m hugging a flower, and I’m really careful not to squeeze her too hard.
Sarah follows my lead, and even Vivian manages to put an arm around Louis and momentarily hold Summer’s hand.
Everyone’s happy and relaxed and full of bubbles as we pose for photos in the sunshine.
After the meal is done and Summer and Louis have had their first dance, everyone kind of disperses.
Summer and Louis are sitting on a bench with her parents, laughing and drinking champagne.
Greg seems to have wandered off somewhere, and Vivian is directing the caterers.
Sarah went to her room about an hour ago, saying she felt tired.
I grab a bottle of champagne and an enormous bowl of crisps nobody seems to have touched and go to find her.
‘Come in,’ she says when I knock tentatively on the door.
She’s sitting on the bed, leg up on a pillow, reading something on her phone.
‘Work?’ I ask.
She shakes her head. ‘No, I did a bit earlier, but Peter’s being great about taking things off my plate for a bit. Whatever you said to him when I was ill must have really hit home.’
‘I doubt I had anything to do with it. Maybe he just loves you.’
She looks at me askance. ‘Did he say that?’
I hope I haven’t overstepped. ‘Not in so many words.’
We fall silent for a moment, then I brandish the champagne. ‘Refreshment?’
‘Oh, go on then, if you insist.’
I fill a couple of champagne flutes and then perch on the edge of her bed. We mock-clink them. ‘To Louis and Summer,’ I say.
‘To Louis and Summer.’
We each take a sip, and I notice her screwing her nose up a little at the bubbles. I’d forgotten she did that whenever she drank something carbonated, and have a sudden memory of a McDonald’s meal we shared a thousand years ago.
The years between then and now seemed long, day by day. But looking back at them now, I’m astonished they’ve all passed.
‘It’s weird. I know Louis left home a few years ago, really. I mean, when he went to university. He was back and forth but…’
‘It feels different now,’ she confirms.
‘At least you won’t have to put up with me popping in to see him.’
‘Yeah.’
I take a crisp and the crunching sound seems to fill the room disproportionately. I try to chew more slowly, quietly, then notice Sarah’s eyes on me. ‘What?’
‘What on earth are you doing with that crisp? Sucking it like a sweet?’
‘It just sounded… loud.’
She laughs and it’s such a beautiful sound. ‘For God’s sake,’ she says, grabbing a handful and shoving them into her mouth. She crunches noisily, her mouth half open.
Grinning, I do the same.
Challenge accepted, she takes another handful and squashes it into her already overfilled mouth.
My own mouth is dry and salty and I’m on the verge of choking but I do the same again.
Then the giggles start. I see her shoulders shake and try to keep myself calm.
But there it is, the laughter rising inside me.
I let out a guffaw that sends shards of crisp flying in all directions.
She swallows some of her mouthful then. ‘Gross!’ she says, around the edge of what’s left in her gob.
She takes a handful of crisps and throws them at me, and I reciprocate.
Ducking, she grabs another handful and chucks them at me like confetti.
I’m just grabbing the bowl and setting it on her head like a hat, letting crumbs and debris cascade down her, onto the bedcovers, the floor, and she’s shrieking with laughter, a few crumbs escaping from her still overfull mouth, when the door opens.
‘Sarah!’ Vivian cries, sounding every inch the mother I remember her being. ‘What on earth are you two doing?’
I turn and jump to my feet, as if I’m a soldier being called to attention by his sergeant. ‘Shorry, Vivian,’ I splutter, still desperately trying to chew and swallow the dried concoction I’ve crammed into my mouth.
She glowers at me and it’s clear that any progress I’ve made in the last few days has now been erased by this latest stunt.
Sarah gives a snort. ‘Yesch, shorry.’
Vivian draws herself up to her full height and looks down her nose at us. ‘When you two have cleared up,’ she says, ‘perhaps you’ll join us in the garden for a toast.’
She clicks the door into place and Sarah and I meet each other’s eye. I swallow and finally my mouth has generated enough saliva to deal with the dried-up potato chips and salt. ‘Whoops,’ I say.
‘I think we’re in trouble.’
‘Yep.’
She’s kneeling up on the bed now, and I’m still standing.
And suddenly she flings her arms around my waist. I hug her back and we stay there for a moment, just holding each other.
It’s been a long time since we touched. Other than perfunctory greetings and short, functional phone calls, we haven’t properly connected for years.
But my body leans into hers, remembering the first time I put my arm around her on the bus, how stiff and awkward and terrifying it had felt.
Our first kiss in the sparkling darkness of the fairground, next to the waltzer, to the sound of delighted screams and chatter.
How after a while, hugging her and kissing her had stopped feeling awkward and had begun to feel…
kind of inevitable. As if we fit together in a way that made sense.
I think of what Sébastien said about jigsaw pieces.
How sometimes it’s the differences between us that bind us together.
Sarah’s organisation, her drive, the fact that she likes things just so.
My—well, I guess I’m more relaxed about that sort of thing.
Some would call it lazy, I guess. But I like to take things more slowly.
Maybe appreciate the journey as much as the destination.
And a realisation comes over me twenty-two years too late. I should have stayed with her. I should have defied her parents as much as I could. And maybe things would have turned out differently for us.
I draw back and look at her face, and she looks at mine, a half-smile playing on her lips. I’m about to say something when she opens her mouth and speaks first.
‘I’m really going to miss you, you know, Hal,’ she says. ‘It’s the end of an era.’
‘Yeah.’ I want to say more, that it doesn’t have to be the end of an era.
Or that maybe it could be the start of something new.
Then I think of all the ways in which I’ve probably caused her pain in the past. And of Peter, who seems to be really into her.
And I realise that coming and interrupting her life again would be selfish.
Because she seems happy. I had my chance and I blew it.
‘I guess we better clean this up before we get into any more trouble,’ she says, making a face.
While she brushes crisps out of her hair, I fetch a dustpan and brush from the kitchen then quietly, I clear up the crisps and dust myself down, before we take our glasses out onto the terrace where Louis is waiting with his new bride.
They’re grinning and laughing, arms wrapped around each other. For the first time, as the breeze blows slightly against her dress, I notice the rounder shape of Summer’s stomach. I think of the baby they will welcome in the world together, and how lucky that kid is going to be.
Maybe I did miss my chance with Sarah. And maybe my fathering skills left something to be desired over the years.
But this could be my second chance, my second era.
I resolve to be there for these kids as they take their next steps into the world.
Not to assume they’re OK just because they don’t ask for help, but to think a bit more about what they might need, how I can make their lives better.
I was a shit father, a crap boyfriend. But I’m going to be the best father-in-law and granddad it’s possible to be.
And I thank God at least my son has the good sense to hold onto love while he has the chance.